Rangeday EXTRA
by Arwen Lune
Summary: UPDATED A series of shorts supplemental to my story Rangeday, but from other point of views. Read Rangeday first, or it won't make much sense.
1. After Rangeday chapter 2

**Rangeday EXTRA**

Note: These are bits and pieces born out of frustration with the fixed point of view I chose for my story _Rangeday_. Every once in a while I feel like showing some other sides of what's going on, and those titbits will be posted here. They will make very little sense if you're not reading _Rangeday_ first, so if you haven't, please click back to my index page and start with that.

* * *

_Ranger point of view drabble, goes after chapter 2_

"Hey, what're you getting out of this?"

One moment I think I am getting somewhere. That she is growing to trust me not only with her  
life, but her heart as well. The next moment she gives me that look. Sees the mercenary. The opportunist.

The words flew from her lips by margarita-induced chattiness. She regrets them now, gives me a worried look.

I am once again aware of how much ground I have yet to cover.

I want her, God help me. But this time I want all of her.

We still have a long way to go.

"Babe."


	2. After Rangeday chapter 5

Rangeday EXTRA

_Ranger POV short… to be read after chapter 5._

* * *

"...I don't generally make the same mistake twice." 

Mistake.

She didn't mean to say that word, and I didn't want to hear it. Until that word, I could tell myself that that night, we both got what we wanted. That I put some pressure on her, but that she enjoyed it as much as I did. Broadened her horizons.

_Mistake_.

That's how she thinks of it. That's how I refused to think of it. Now I can't deny... can't deny that if someone treated my sister like I treated her, I would have uglier words for it.

From day one she put yourself in my hands, and it made me feel like I was a better man than I'd ever been before. She called me when she was cuffed up naked in her shower, and the sheer shock that she'd trust me to help her and leave made me do precisely that.

It also scared the hell out of me.

Mercenary. Opportunist.

That is the words I gave her, the words to judge my actions by, and that is the standard she holds me to. She thinks I use her body to scratch an itch and it doesn't even offend her. If I apologised, she would be speechless in shock.

I've seen myself through her eyes and I don't like what I saw.

I admire this self-improvement project of hers. It takes guts to look at yourself and change the things you don't like. That she can do it makes me take a good look at myself and wonder why I'm NOT doing it.

I feel pulled in ten directions at once, and the urge to run is strongest of all. This is serious. This feeling. This knowledge that she see me as someone I suddenly no longer want to be. Very serious. Much too serious for me right now.

I can't think when I'm here. Home, I want to go home. I grab some things into a small duffle and wait for the lift, intending to stick my head into the control room to tell them I'll not be back in until tomorrow's evening shift. The doors slide open and Tank is here. The control room guys will have seen Steph leave, but Tank is the only one who'd call me on it. And he will. He stands in the back of the lift and waits for me to join him.

I punch the button for garage-level and the doors slide shut.

"Do I want to know why the Bombshell came out of your place looking like she'd been kicked in the gut?"

I don't answer.

"Guessed not. Sometimes I wonder if that girl's a masochist to keep hanging out with you."

That was so close to my own turmoil of thoughts that I grab him by the upper arms, squeezing hard. He does the same and we face off, arms braced.

"Keep out of this," I grind out.

"Why? So you can play around some more? Fuck up some more? You need to get your shit together."

"I did _not_ ask you to comment on my private decisions."

"So what? I'm commenting anyway. Free of charge," Tank goes on. Anybody else would be crumpled on the floor right now, bleeding. "If you want more with her than just sex, stop fucking about and go for it. If you don't want her, then at least have the goddamn decency to stop giving her hope, stop claiming her, get out of the way and wish her happiness!"

When did Tank become Steph's ally instead of mine? It takes me long moments to reign in the sick fury. Then I release him, my motions almost mechanical, and pick up the bag I'd dropped. The doors slide open.

"I'll be out for a few days."


	3. After Rangeday chapter 6

_Wednesday night_

_A brief bit of Tank point of view, because I like Tank and he really wanted to tell me his side of the story. In face, he pretty much held me hostage and dictated it to me. How could I refuse? The hunky man in black made me do it, honest. You'll have to read it as 'mental notes' I think. _

* * *

Don't know what I expected from this place, but this isn't it. Never seen a back-room dojo this nicely done up. Ranger thinks there's money in this family. From the looks of it he's right. The word is Yakuza. Not that it's any of my concern. I'm just here to help Steph out.

There are no slippers my size, so I go in on my socks. The receptionist lady apologises profusely for this oversight on their part. I tell her not to worry – don't think many people my shoesize come in this place. I'll bring my own next time.

This is Tsuy? Hair in a hip-length braid. Reserved look on her face. Looks very formal, sophisticated. Confirms all the stereotypes of Japanese people. Would be pretty if she smiled.

I'm surprised as hell when she takes Stephs' hands in greeting. Steph introduces me, and I accept her hands as she reaches out, and bow over them as she does. Her hands are small and cool. When we upright and make eye contact for the briefest of moments, her eyes say that I've surprised her.

Hell, she surprised me. By reaching out so easily, not reluctant to touch. Not even Steph touches me without a great deal of hesitation, as if she worries that she'll annoy me. Usually my body language and blank face keep people well away. Most of the time I like it that way.

I like this greeting. It feels very personal. Almost without realising it I introduce myself by my real name. Steph shifts a little in surprise. She knew it, but never heard me use it before.

Don't go thinking I wasn't expecting her to be good. Hell, Carlos said that for someone her size, she had a helluva lot of tricks up her sleeve. That says something coming from his mouth. She has poise and balance and the absolute discipline you only find in people who believe in training their body in the old-fashioned martial way. Unlike them, she's also at ease showing her hand. Has no trouble admitting she's not at her best today. And - horse riding? I can tell it's news for Steph too.

Bombshell is nervous. About facing me? Not much I can do about that. I try like hell not to hurt her, but you can't train this stuff if you won't take the risks.

Okay, we'll demonstrate first.

Tsuy gives a formal bow, and I return it. Liking this way to open a session. _I respect you_. Makes it more than two people trying to beat each other. Maybe I'll reintroduce it to the sparring sessions with the guys. They're going too much toward fist fighting of late.

I know I said this would be no problem. Now I'm nervous anyway. She's standing there with a smirk in her eyes, and my stomach does a little tapdance. She's five foot three and maybe a hundred-ten soaking wet. Shit, I don't want to hurt her. Now she's taunting me. It surprises Steph, but I know what she's doing. She needs me to commit to this charge or her throw will go wrong. She needs my momentum to make it work.

I give her the bad-ass look. She gives me a wicked grin and her fingers curl inward, challenging me, saying 'come on, come on'.

Fuck it. Carlos didn't break her. She can handle me. I hope.

OOF! Christ, this girl is FAST. She could floor half of the guys at the office without straining anything.  
Not that that would be such an achievement. Not all of them had as much formal training as Carlos and me. Some of them get by because they know how to throw a punch and are big enough that nobody's going to try anything on them. I'm still trying to get them up to par technically. Guess that's why Carlos sent Steph to this girl. She's got no bulk to get by on, so the techniques better be damn good. If Steph picks up even half of this stuff she'll be a hell of a lot safer from here on.

Steph is getting good. She doesn't realise it yet, but that will come. Carlos would be proud if he saw this. Maybe that damn cop would be, too. Then again maybe not. He seems to like the idea of Steph in his kitchen, scared by her problems into giving it all up. Doesn't he see she's got more to give life than babies and cooked pasta?

Carlos sees it, but Carlos can be a real stubborn ass sometimes. He's still going with the idea that he can't have a relationship with the life he leads. If that was his decision and he stuck to it, no problem. But he's got no right to say that and then keep claiming Steph, keep pushing and giving her hope.

I told him as much on Monday night. Steph running out of his apartment, without her coat and with her bra loose? She seemed real upset. I went downstairs to see if she was alright, but she drove away when I was in the lift. I punched 'up' and went to ask Carlos what the hell happened. He didn't answer, so I needled him a bit. He grabbed me and I swear I could hear his back teeth grind.  
I told him he was a dick. Hey, if your best friend won't say it, who will? Friends try to keep each other from making mistakes. Just returning the favour; he gave me the wake-up call about that Vanessa... woman.. last year. So anyway, I told him he was a dick for saying 'no' but acting 'maybe'. It's worse than Morelli. At least the cop is clear about what he wants from her. Carlos did that scary internalising thing he does, all the emotions just disappearing, and left in his truck.

Hope he figures it out. I think he loves her and I think if she wasn't convinced she'd get her heart stomped on by a pair of combat boots, she might just dare to love him back. He's an idiot for letting that pass. Maybe he's sticking with what he said one drunken night just after his divorce - that he didn't deserve to have that ever again. He messed up his marriage real good. That was 9 years ago, and he's a different guy now. Punk-ass brawn-for-brains did a total 180, cleaned up his act, started using his talents constructively. Just in this aspect he doesn't see himself proper.  
I think he's keeping back because he's afraid of fucking it up again. As I said, he can be a stubborn ass sometimes.

Oops. Got to be aware. Tsuy touches my arm to get my attention. Most people would rather grab hold of a scorpion than touch me like that. They figure it's less dangerous. Most of the time I guess they're right.  
I've established that reputation, and the look that goes with it. Used to be I was tall and black. Lanky, they said. Then I got to work to get big, because it's better to be 'that huge black guy' than 'the black stretch' or something like that. Respect is good, but on a pinch fear will do. Some people think it's dumb thing to do, but I found my zone in the gym. The body gets to work and the mind can free-wheel.

She stands on her toes, and I have to lean down so she can say something in my ear. She tells me in a low-pitched voice how to approach Steph next. Her breath is warm over my ear.

Shit, pay attention here Foster. This is a martial arts class. Get to it.

Steph is stuck, and I wish I had not done this grip. Or at least not so late in the evening. She's growing tired and she can't figure out how to get loose. I can feel the frustration course through her spine.

Tsuy sees an opening, but she's not telling. Instead they exchange places, so that Steph can look at the situation from the outside. And all of a sudden Tsuy's much closer than I ever expected her to be. Her breath rushes a little when I shove her feet outside of my right leg and she is suspended in my arm, crushed against my chest. Because she's shorter, she is even further off balance than Steph was. Both her wrists are easily enclosed by one of my hands.

I see no way out. Steph might have gotten somewhere by twisting, forcing me to rebalance, and then grasping her opportunity. Tsuy hasn't the size to achieve that.  
I almost laugh when she mimics the bite in my hand. Her lips brush my knuckle in the lightest touch, and I let go of her wrists. Before I know it her hand has licked out and I feel a touch to my eyelashes. Her index and forefinger have come to a halt just millimetres from my eyes. Snapping my head back I let go, and instead of trying to save her balance she allows herself to drop, rolls away over her shoulder and pops to her feet.

She explains to Steph the merits of biting and all I can do is shake my head in silent wonder. Steph is a walking wonder of energy and boundless ingenuity. Tsuy is calm assessment and efficient ruthlessness. Combined they could wreak havoc on a sizeable developed nation. God help us all if they ever decide to team up beyond these lessons.

In hindsight, maybe tickling Stephanie was a mistake. I sure as hell don't plan to mention it to Carlos. He probably wouldn't find it too amusing, though now I think of it… he hasn't said anything to her that would give him the right to be jealous. Hell, maybe I'll tell him just to rib him. When it pisses him off, and it will, 'What's it to you anyway? She ain't yours'. Heh.

Then all of a sudden Tsuy joins in and I hadn't counted on that. Together they get me under control. Maybe I could have put up some more resistance, but not a lot. Tsuy's small, but she knows all the right tricks to minimise her disadvantage. The knee low in my neck made damn sure I couldn't work up the sort of leverage I needed to dislodge her, and I was too distracted to try anyway.

Because my hindbrain was bringing to my attention the fact that there were two very attractive women right up close, and they were currently teamed up to keep me against the mat. Now I remembered why when I was a kid and trained in the neighbourhood dojo, the girls had their own class. Because we were little horndogs and wouldn't have been able to concentrate on the Sensei.

Fuck. I just proved that the concentration thing still goes. I did NOT mean to say that out loud.

Fuck. Steph is laughing her ass off. Tsuy looks shocked.

I just broke one of the basic codes of a dojo - emotions have no place here. It's probably the only way to make it okay for women to spar with men. All that messy sex stuff you leave at the door. In here are just neutral bodies. Until I spilled my guts and showed my hand like a 12-year old, that is.

She's sitting against the wall, eyes wide. I feel like an idiot. It probably shows on my face because Steph is in hysterics.

"Sorry," I say to Tsuy, wishing I had a wall here to bash my head against. "That offend you?"

She wags her hand in a 'maybe, not sure' gesture and for some reason I'm relieved. She's telling me something here. She's not politely smoothing it over to be horrified in private. She's showing me what she really thinks and I know enough to appreciate the openness. Her face looks more shocked than offended.

"I can't believe you just said that," she says. Yeah. Me neither. She shakes her head with what seems like disbelief, and her lips twitch just a little. Shocked and amused. Dismissing it with a shake of her head she gets up, telling us to go shower and change and then inviting us both to stay for dinner.

That means I'm still welcome, I think. God only knows why this relieves me so much, but it does. I'm never that concerned about what others think of me… I don't want to cause problems for Steph's lessons. That's it. It's great that she's learning so much and growing so much more confident. Yeah.

During dinner we discuss the merits of clothes rollers versus duct tape for removing pet hair from clothing. And eat amazing noodle soup. I'm grateful Steph is hungry and joins me in eating a load of everything, or I would look like I'd eat the place bare on my own.

"I'll see you both next week?" she says when we say goodbye. I nod, enfolding her hands in my own and find myself stroking the back of her fingers with my thumbs. She smiles, bows, and Steph and I walk outside. Yeah, next week. I'm beginning to like the idea of my Wednesday evenings being spent like this.

I wonder if she'd go out with me?


	4. After Rangeday chapter 11

RangeDay EXTRA – Ranger's POV between chapter 11 and 12.

(With thanks to Abbi, who helped kick this up a notch.)

Friday night. No idea of the time. She is equal parts entrancing and bewildering. We're in her kitchen and she offers me water, splashes some as she gestures with the glass. Unselfconsciously brings her wrist to her lips, and I shake myself. How did I get here? Watching her lick a drop of water off her wrist?

She's been vibrant all week, on top of the world. It started Monday and on Thursday morning it was even stronger. As if the stars aligned and she discovered exactly what she wants out of life and how to get it.

I wonder what that is.

Friday meeting was great. It's almost always a good time, but I don't think anyone really realised how much of an influence Steph is on that until last week, when she was feeling down.

When she is in a low mood, the office is silent, the faces grave. Lunchtime does nothing to lift the quiet. Meetings are serious, the men short-tempered, and it seems like the skips are scummier, the crimes more disgusting.  
When she is in high spirits, she can cheer up a graveyard. It's just something about her personality that can lift a room full of hardened ex-military cynics to smiles. That can make us all feel like we're doing something worthwhile out there.

Tonight her spirits were sky-high and it was one of the best Friday outings I can remember. I watched her beat Lester at pool - he never stood a chance - and drank orange juice so I would be able to drive her home. She had margaritas and mineral water. Enough alcohol to get snockered, enough water to stay in happy drunk mode and not pass over into being-sick-and-passing-out drunk.

"I love you guys," she declared, and I was torn between wanting to strangle Lester for calling out "Love you too, bombshell!" and wanting to be able to say those words out loud myself.

Love you too, Babe.

No reservations, no holds barred. I love her and I want to be with her. The worrying thing is that this thought doesn't worry me at all. I'm not sure if a future with her is even possible and I'm torn about if I want to act at all, but the realisation itself is crystal clear.

I think I have known it for some time; I just didn't want to admit it. Then when I did, I just wanted to hide it. Wanted to love her from a distance, encourage her, help her to fly - and then let her go. Anything more... a relationship.. how could that work? It wouldn't. A relationship means to let another person into your life. There are many things in my life I had rather she never find out about, or she may start to see me in a completely different light. I don't want her to find out who I was.  
Now it's come so far that even that thought doesn't stop me anymore. I want her, plain and simple. I want all of her and what I offer in return is all of me.

So I want her and I can't have what I want. What else is new?

When we were at MacDonalds, eating and talking, I was confronted with some of the cruel things I've said in the past. They weren't meant cruelly. At the time they were just thoughtless. Now I know I've hurt her without even knowing it at the time. Can you un-say words? No. Things that happened stay happened. I found that out in my marriage. All you can do is hope the other person will give you the chance to make up for it. I didn't get that chance with Maria - didn't deserve it either. I'd done too much, hurt her too deep. But maybe with Stephanie..

She was so close. I kissed her. The kiss was slow and deep; powerful. I was trying to bring across the depth of my feelings. Pour it into her with mouth and breath and touch. _I love you. Please let me love you._

I could feel her heartbeat speed up along with my own. Kissing her has never been quite this intense. It's been hot as hell, but it was always about sex. This time I wasn't basking my ego in the way her body reacted to me.

When it ended she snuggled closer against me, cheek resting against the side of my neck. I stroked her back and side, and she let out a long sigh, as if she couldn't think of a better place to be in the whole world. That's what I thought, too. I wanted to say the words... tell her what I feel for her... but her body felt like she already knew. I wanted to ask her to come home with me, but it was probably too soon. Better take it slow, I've rushed things before and it didn't work.

"I'd like to go home," she said. Cool voice a contrast with the way her body has melded against mine. She wanted to go home? After what I'd just told her? I hid my disappointment and helped her into her own seat.

So we're at her place now, and she takes a drink of water, and my eyes are riveted to her throat as she tips back her head to drink. Christ. She's insanely, bewitchingly sensual. More when she doesn't try. I mean I like seeing her dress up for distraction jobs, but this is hotter somehow.

She wanted to go home, but she seems comfortable enough having me here. Not eager to get me out. And when I whisper that I'm thinking about kissing her she shivers a bit, in a good way. So I do. It's the slow, loving kiss of before... the one where I am talking to her without bothering with words. It's intoxicating. Then she sags against me and lets out a tiny moan, and before I know it the kiss runs out of hand, as do our hands. My head tells me to cool it but my body isn't hearing it, and she feels so damn good that I—

Say something I shouldn't have.

She all but slaps me in the face. Actually, feeling numb as I listen to her, she might as well have. It would have hurt less. I don't even understand everything she says, I just hear the anger in her voice.  
Have I been thinking 'someday' all this time while she thought 'whatever'? This was a stupid idea. She doesn't feel the same way. There's attraction maybe, and lust. How can she think these things of me? She hasn't heard a word of what I have been telling her.

I apologise. I'm sorry that I've upset you, Babe.

I very carefully close the door behind me, knowing that if I let go of myself now, I'll slam it so hard the doorjamb will break. Control now, Manoso. Walk calmly down the stairs. Breathe from the stomach. Slow and deep. Calmly lower the gas pedal. Resist the urge to do 90 in a residential zone. Don't think. Just drive.

Good. Now unclench hands from steering wheel.

Gym, treadmill. Want to go outside for a long run, but I know better than to do it on my own in this mood. I find trouble easily when I'm like this. Tank wouldn't like being called out of bed to bail me out again. Especially since he has a date tomorrow morning. Steph's trainer. She's okay. Seems a bit serious, but he'll cure her of that. I hope he has a good time.

There, that was good. No jealousy at all. I'm glad for my best friend and wish him happiness. If I keep repeating it, maybe the stab of jealousy will fade.

I turn up the treadmill and lose myself in the pounding of my feet. It feels good. The rhythm absorbs all my thoughts.

"Christ man, what are you doing?"

I stumble when Tank calls out from the doorway, and slap the off button. He walks in, looking like he's fallen out of bed and straight into a pair of old sweatpants. 

"What are you doing awake?" Like I don't know. 

"Control called. Said you were playing Duracell bunny at half-past-three in the morning."

That late? I hadn't noticed that I've been running for nearly an hour. Kind of forgotten about the cameras as well.

"So, I take it you didn't have a good time with Steph?"

"It was great." Right up 'till the point where I told her I love her.

"Yeah, you look like it was great."

"Shut up."

He gives me a long hard look.

"She yelled," I say finally.

He grimaces. "What did you do?"

I put the treadmill to 'walk' for my cooling down. Scrutinise the workout log. Oh look, I ran 9.6 miles. Not bad for a Friday night. Tank's arms come to rest right over the little screen, and he leans forward. In my face.

"Said something I shouldn't have," I admit.

He raises his eyebrows.  
"Anything in particular?"

I have no intention to answer that, so I hit the up-speed button until I'm back in my rhythm. Fuck this. I'm not in the mood for an interrogation.

He presses the down-speed button until I'm walking again. Keeps his hand over the speed controls.

"Thomas," I growl.

"Carlos."

I suddenly feel like I'm about a pint of blood low. My legs seem like lead.

"Told her I love her."

He does a two-handed 'WHOA!' gesture.

_Yeah. I'm right with you, man._

"You serious?"

Are we talking about the telling or the loving? Doesn't matter. Yes to both. I nod once. He makes it sound worryingly like marriage. More worryingly, the thought of something that far-reaching only mildly freaks me out. 

"Huh."

Tell me about it.

"So what did she say?" he makes a vague gesture, "Yell?"

"She thought it was a new way to get her into bed," I say, hearing the bitterness in my own voice. "That I was using her for entertainment. I don't know why I thought—"

He shakes his head and sighs.  
"Man, Carlos. You've spent _how_ long alternately kissing her in alleys and keeping her away from you?"

I really don't want to hear this.

"Got to be a couple of years by now. And you expect that just as soon as you utter the magic words, she'll swoon into your arms like the lead of some crappy romance novel? This _is_ the Bombshell we're talking about."

"No." Well, maybe. I don't know what I was thinking.

I shrug.

He yawns and rubs his face.  
"I'm not going to get into this shit now, but lemme tell you that Steph's crazy about you. Maybe more than she wants to be."

I give him a hard look. Sure, she's attracted. Crazy about me? Hardly. Physically, yeah. And what does he mean more than she wants to be? She's not avoiding me. Or at least she wasn't. I get off the treadmill and pull open a cupboard for a towel.

"Then why would she react like that?" I don't know if I'm asking him, or myself, or the world in general.

"Hell, I don't know. Call Celia if you want an insight into the female mind. I just know what if she couldn't stand to be around you, she wouldn't still be working for RangeMan."

I wonder if that's true. I still have vivid images of her empty fridge and junk car from when I first met her. Could he be right and would she be gone if she really wanted to? She does have options now. She could go back to bounty hunting. Probably would be more successful at it than she was before, and she seems to feel ready to get back into fieldwork.

Ever since I pulled her door shut behind me I've been thinking of ways to avoid her, since she so obviously didn't want to see me. Now I remember that we've spent some good times together over the past few weeks… and I wonder if my words really changed as much as I think they did. 

"You need to talk to her, man," Tank says. "I mean really TALK. If you want things different between you two…"

We walk out of the gym together and I can't resist prodding him a little. He should talk. Like his relationships always work out so well.  
"You're the one to speak. Remember Miranda?"

He shrugs.  
"I try to learn from my mistakes. And that wouldn't have worked out anyway. She wouldn't have been able to handle the job."

"And this Tsuy, can she handle it?"

"Guess I'm gonna find out," he shrugs. "She kind of knows what RangeMan does, and she knows I work here, that's a start."

"Have fun," I wish him. He grins, looking like he expects no problem there. It's good to see him get back into dating. Ever since that Vanessa girl last year he just didn't bother anymore. He was really into her… even talking about how she might be The One. Turns out she just brought him home because she was trying to upset her parents.  
I hope Tsuy's not going to back out on him at the first sign of family protests. She doesn't seem that kind of person, but then… family pressure can be very heavy.

"Get some sleep, you look like shit," he grins. I give him a friendly punch in the shoulder and step into the lift while he takes the stairs.

I get into bed and try to imagine a future where Stephanie and I still talk to each other. It doesn't come easy. I keep hearing her say all those things. _"Giving me a little taste of what it could be like, and then disappearing back to the batcave…"_ It sounded so angry, but now I think of it, also so very sad. I love her. Does she not know I love her? Does she really think I am playing with her? How can she think that when I've told her I love her? I just can't understand why she reacted like that. I might have to talk to Celia after all, I decide as I finally drift off. Maybe to women, this sort of thing makes perfect sense. 

_to be continued_


	5. After Rangeday chapter 11 Tank speaks

RangeDay EXTRA  
Tank's talking again… this takes place after chapter 11.

* * *

Saturday night is almost inevitably planned full with takedowns. The scum of the earth will stay hidden under their rocks all week, but on Saturday for some reason the urge to come out and play in favourite haunts is irresistible. Since I have no life to speak of, I'm often on call on the weekends. I stay in my apartment in the building, sleep late, don't get up to much, and after pizza with the guys we go off and do our thing.

This Saturday I had a reason to get up at a decent hour; that reason is called Ninja. Well, she's really called Tsuy but when seeing her move I'm reminded of a character I drew for a cartoon when I was a kid. Sleek and graceful and full of sudden, quirky humour. She said she doesn't mind that I call her that.

I thought for about half an hour on Wednesday after Stephanie came to see me, and then called her. I could tell she was surprised. Had she expected I would be scared off by the message? Well tough luck. I don't scare off easily. We spoke for a short while and I gave her the address to meet me at. Then, because I didn't think a surprise was the way to go for the first time, I let her know we'd be encountering pet hair. Mostly because I didn't want her to dress up formally like she tends to do for dinner after dojo lessons.

Her little car thumped with heavy bass-drums and for a moment there I thought Lula had come instead. Then she stopped and I got out to greet her. Long leather coat over jeans and a blue top. Hair tied back. Utterly gorgeous. Not that she realises it. I made a remark about the music and she smiled. Kodo. Japanese drummers. She let me hear some of it. Kodo means heartbeat.

I explained why we were at the animal shelter. I grew up with pets, but since then I've never managed to be home enough to give a dog a good home. Especially now I all but live in two apartments - my own across town, and the 4th floor apartment on Haywood. One of my sisters used to work at this shelter before she moved, and I made it a habit to go by every once in a while, spend some time with the dogs. It's social time for them, the shelter is helped out, and I get my regular dose of pet hair and dog play. She smiled and said she loved the idea. Then she made me promise not to let her take any new animals home.

I haven't met her dogs yet, so I wondered how she'd get along with some of the dogs there. Some of them can be a bit.. over-enthusiastic.  
I'm not sure if it surprised me that none of them gave her any trouble. She has some sort of natural dominance, but in a quiet, calm way. One of the shyest dogs they have there, a German Shepherd-mix that's been there for a while, took to her like I've never seen before.

We talked and threw tennis balls and had a great time with some of the dogs. Told each other more than I'd expected. Turns out she grew up all around the world. Her father was diplomat. She came back to Japan when she was 17, and I guess it explains why she's such a fusion-type person.

She was getting cold, so I took her hands between my own to warm them. Shame my hands weren't very warm either. Not a problem; she just slid hers into my sleeves, putting them against the inside of my forearms where it was warmer. It was strange - and it wasn't. It feels good that she touches me so easily. She smiled and didn't look at me, but I'd already figured out that she rarely looks people in the eye, at least not for longer than a glance. She stood quite close and I was beginning to entertain ideas of pulling her just a bit closer still, so I could kiss her. Maybe not a good idea. Then again, maybe it is.

"Can I kiss you?" I finally compromised. Then as I said it I remembered about asking direct questions. I hope she feels okay about refusing me if that's what she wants to do.

Didn't seem like she wanted to though. She tipped back her head and her lips curved just a little. I leant down and her hands curled into my forearms when I kissed her. It was slow and sweet and I was just about to pull back when she pulled her hands from my sleeves and put them on the side of my neck instead. Not so much holding me as encouraging me to stay. I startled a bit because they seemed a lot colder there, and she smiled into the kiss, and I chuckled. It was crazy and wonderful and I didn't want it to stop.

Christ, I think that might be the sappiest thought I've ever had. And I'm going to have to work real hard on getting the goofy smile off my face before I get to work tomorrow.

In any case we had a good time with the dogs and then warmed up in the cat room. A sleek red cat adopted me instantly and curled up on my lap and purred like a jet engine. I consider myself more of a dog person, but if I could have a pet, he'd have gone home with me.

When we finally tore ourselves loose from the cats we went for lunch in a place Ranger recommended. Nice but casual and with a pretty healthy menu. That was a good idea. She may have lived all over the world, but she's definitely a Japanese eater.

So we ate, and talked some more, but mostly we didn't say much, and it felt good. I'm not much of a talker by nature - during the mental health checkups in my time with the Rangers they said that was probably due to the way we lived before I was four, because my siblings don't have it. Some people seem to conclude that it means I also don't think much, and usually I can't be bothered to correct them. What would be the point? But I think plenty; I just don't have that mind-mouth connection that enables most people to flap out whatever they're thinking at the time.

Being with people who do have it can be awkward. I keep feeling they're waiting for my side of the conversation, but I don't really do that. I just... have trouble saying what I want to say. I hear it in my head, but it won't come out. So they fill in my side, or stop talking, and it's usually pretty uncomfortable. Steph is the exception. She chatters, but she chatters with everybody, and she seems to have come to the conclusion that my silence is nothing personal against her. I actually quite enjoy her company. Interesting things always happen in the Stephanie Zone.

With Tsuy it's not awkward like with most people. I don't know why but it never feels as if I need to say something, we can be quiet together. It's comfortable. And for some reason that also makes it easier to say something. I told her a little about where I grew up and how I got to work for RangeMan, just because I know not everybody finds it easy to handle. I wanted it out of the way. She told me where she grew up (boarding schools in Britain, Oman and Japan) and what she did before she moved here (studied Photography at the Tokyo School of Arts). Talk about coming from different sides of the tracks.

It didn't seem to bother her though, and I wondered if I could hope she'd go out with me a second time.

Technically I work the 16:00-00:00 shift most weekdays, but we're often busy in the field during those hours so I come in earlier to do all the office management things that Ranger doesn't get around to. He may be the owner, but we're in this thing together. I want to help him succeed. And since I have no life whatsoever, working 80 hours a week doesn't bother me. Now I'm probably gonna take some mornings off to see more of her.

I wonder what Ranger will think of that. He can't really object, but things aren't in a happy place with Steph and him right now, so he might not be too understanding. Tough. He should work it the hell out instead of playing the defeatist. Of course she's gonna be ticked off if he says stuff like that after years of advancing and retreating. He's actually surprised? Hurt? Hell, he shouldn't be. If she's still ticked off when she knows the full story, _then_ he gets to be hurt. And I'll be very, very surprised if that happens.

But that's for him to figure out.

Thinking of what we could do on a next date, I asked her what she'd seen of the area so far. Turns out she's not much of an explorer, at least not on her own. She's been to the beach, and that's pretty much it. So I have plenty of things to go do with her.   
It's a good thing she doesn't work weekdays, or we'd have trouble finding time for each other. As it is we're going exploring on Thursday morning, and chances are good that she'll come along to the shelter again next Saturday.

So I think I can call this date a success. Hell, I hadn't expected to be kissing her today, but I did – twice. Her initiative the second time. Which surprised me, but I guess she's just a surprising person.

Shit. Just found myself smiling about nothing.


	6. After Rangeday chapter 13

_A short to accompany RangeDay. Read somewhere after chapter 13.  
Tsuy muses names._

* * *

'Ninja' he calls me. A name of honour, if he truly understands the meaning. From his lips it is always an endearment.

His patience in teaching Stephanie is infinite, and not once does he feel the need to be competitive or prove to us his true strength. Instead he takes pleasure in her growing skill.

His voice is low. Soothing. He moves well, with more grace that someone his size should be able to possess. I watch his kata with wonder.

His body— I wish for my camera. With careful lighting each ridge could be given contrast, each plane defined. Then, the moment I love best of all, the moment where the fleeting second in time turns into permanence... But no. I couldn't ask him that. Besides, my cameras are at home in Tokyo.

'Tank' he calls himself. A heavy, graceless weapon. It is explosive imprecision; crude and without honour. He sells himself short.


	7. During Rangeday chapter 14

Rangeday EXTRA

_This is set about halfway during chapter 14 - Ranger's point of view._

* * *

I've never dated.

Let me explain that. I've never done the official asking out, dressing up, taking someone to dinner kind of date. Up 'till now I met women, spent time with then – generally most of it in a bed – and didn't see them again.  
The one exception being my ex wife. She lived a block away and we hit off in a loose way. Neither of us were ready for anything more than having fun, but when she found out she was pregnant we decided we'd grow up and be responsible parents together.

She managed. I didn't. That pretty much says it all.

I never tried the relationship thing again, going back to the loose contacts. Always made sure the woman knew that nothing would come of it. No complications, just mutual satisfaction of physical needs.

I was happy with that.

Then Stephanie Plum came into my life. Little Miss Innocent from the Burg. Exasperating and infuriating and fascinating and other things ending on –ing.  
I tried to keep her at a distance. It didn't work. She insinuated herself into my mind and my thoughts and my life and she didn't even know she was doing it. I made sure of that.

The first time I said 'someday' I meant it as the acknowledgement of a possibility. It wasn't impossible that we'd get together some day. Not likely, but not improbable either. It kept her happy at the time. Made her feel like she wasn't some body to me. She isn't. She's never been. I just preferred to have that body close while I kept the emotional involvement to a minimum. Hands-on emotional distance, I called it.

It wasn't easy. But what she wanted... I couldn't give her. It was best that she kept going back to the cop. He could give her what she wanted.

Yeah, great thinking, Manoso. _Sure_ you know what she wants. She cleared up that misconception for me too. I'm good, but I'm not psychic - certainly not where she in concerned.

Turns out she's a lot less interested in having the Burg deal than I always thought. She thinks she's supposed to want that but maybe she's coming to the conclusion that she doesn't actually want it again for herself. She already did the whole settle down thing, with Dickhead Orr. I suspect that like me, she grew up too fast. Never had the chance to live out the wild streak. Now that she has that freedom, she's not willing to just give it up again. It's one thing the cop just doesn't get.

It also turns out that long before I became aware of what she is to me, I was willing to face a crazy preacher with a rocket-launcher for her. Didn't even think about it at the time. Probably I found a real good excuse to myself afterward. And long before she became aware of what I am to her, she wouldn't leave me alone to face that same crazy preacher with rocket-launcher.

Turns out that the whole hands-on emotional distance thing was doomed from there on out.

And unlike my previous attempt at a relationship, I _can_ be committed and faithful to one person. I haven't seen anyone else in a good while. Haven't missed it, either.

So now we're dating. And it feels ridiculous to date someone I've known for years... but I can tell that it puts her at ease if we go through the motions, as it were. Me, I'd like for her to move in with me today. Tomorrow would do. She'd freak out if I told her that, so I've put that idea on the backburner for now. She's already integrating more into my life.

I just have to take slow or she might back out. I'll bring her to my house in a few weeks. Meet my family not long after that. Maybe not all at once. Might invite Celia over some time, so that by the time I take her to a family gathering, she has some allies and doesn't feel like I'm throwing her into the deep. My family can be a bit overwhelming. Not that I think she can't handle it. After all, she can handle her own insane family.

I also plan to have her sharp vision benefit me in a strategic position within Rangeman. Any of the men can do searches. Not nearly so many of them can prove themselves useful during a business negotiation. She's beautiful and she plays PA very convincingly, that sharp mind on the case all the time. She throws people for a loop. It's fun seeing people blunder when the PA they mentally dismissed starts asking observant questions. And she's born to trace skips. She sees connections no one else does. A lot of the time her different perspective is exactly what we need to solve cases. She thinks around corners.

I need to play this carefully. A new place within Rangeman doesn't actually have anything to do with a new place in my life. Don't want her to think this is preferential treatment. I've been planning this for a while, and this is just the right time.

She's doing well with the Rangeday plans. As far as I know the guys are lost in the maze of breadcrumbs she's left for them, and none the wiser. It's a shame that I found out by accident, though I wasn't far from finding out on my own anyway. Shame, but now I can help her by throwing everybody else off the track. That might be even more fun.

I wonder where this sudden gift in strategy came from, though. She didn't used to have this sort of insight. It's almost as if someone has been coaching her only I can't think who that would be. Nobody new in her life with these skills. I thought for a while that it might be Tsuy, but from what Tank tells she's very much a free thinker, not a strategist.  
I could ask Steph, but she enjoys keeping people guessing.

Probably I could find out if I was nosy enough.

Probably I have the damn sense to resist. I damn near screwed everything up because I thought that I— No, I _didn't_ think. I just went right in and searched the place like I've done a hundred times in a hundred houses, forgetting that it was wrong even if she'd never found out.

Somewhere in the back of my mind a soft voice occasionally whispers that someone like her is crazy to be so trusting of someone like me. That if she knew more about my past, she _wouldn't_ trust me.

And of course she found out. I've praised her intuition enough times that I shouldn't be surprised about it. She has a sharp mind. She notices things nobody else does. One of the first times I met her, she noticed I didn't talk street all the time. Nobody else ever spotted that. She doesn't make assumptions, and she mostly takes people as they are. Her strange collection of friends testifies to that. Hell, the fact that she took me into her life while knowing next to nothing about me testifies to that. Still does. I need to learn to be more open to her. It doesn't come easily.

I digress

She might not be so happy about this promotion idea of me, so I'm going to keep her on 50 fieldwork to make sure she doesn't climb the walls. Strung-out Steph is only fun if it's sugar she's craving.

I'd be tempted to try to get her into that state more often if it wasn't so much fun seeing her eat. Tio Mario does a stunning chocolate mousse swirl and watching her eat it damn nearly gave me a brain aneurysm.

That chocolate mousse in conjunction with my tongue and her naked body.

Excuse me while I go fill my bathtub with ice cubes.

This woman is a hazard to the male brain function. Not just the brain either. I have a resting pulse rate of 76. Never dips below 104 when I'm around Stephanie. She should come with a health-warning label.

Not that it'd stop me. I was clean for years... until I met her. She's more addictive than anything I've ever polluted my body with.

As if the chocolate mousse episode wasn't enough, she went and invited me in after I brought her home. I should have just dropped her off, but I wanted to make sure her apartment was secure. I was so hard that a swim in a glacier lake couldn't have cooled me off. Staying with her would have been... but as I stood there I remembered the time I came there and found a couch in the hall and chocolate-chip scent on the air. And that she'd called it a mistake later.

I thought at the time that she was ready. I told her the information about the medal would get added to the tab, and she said, "Just tell me". We both knew what we were talking about. She was ready. Her body certainly said she was ready. And we had a fantastic night.

So what made her say later that it was a mistake? And why does that word make my throat muscles contract until I can barely swallow? Does she still think it was a mistake? And if so, what is happening now?

We should discuss this sometime. Sometime soon. Sometime before I give in to urge to take her to my bed.

So I kissed her, and then I went home. Tank met me to debrief the thing with Steph's car, and stayed around for beer. We watched the Top Gear episode where they circuit race old minivans and laughed our heads off.  
He saw Tsuy on Tuesday - and let me know he'd be cutting back on his overtime the same day. They've seen each other twice since then. Do I get that same dazed half-smile when I think about Stephanie?

There must be something in the water. Steph and I. Tank and Tsuyiko. Hal and Lula. And Cal came and asked me for the weekend off. Said he had to see his brother about a deal that went down. He didn't seem too at ease asking me about it. We're betting that he's seeing someone as well.

I'm going car shopping with her later today. Used car. Why she refuses to accept a car from me now, I don't get. She had no trouble accepting a Porsche when she barely knew me, and I KNOW an Accord isn't her dream car. I was considering a new VW Touareg for her. Just had word that a contact has one available at short notice. Legit, mind you. Not all my cars are, but hers should be up to the scrutiny of the Trenton cops. God knows she sees enough of them, and I don't need one of them trying to get to my through her. If they want to take me on, better come directly to me.

Anyway, I had better dress down and take the oldest Explorer, the one Lester and Bobby like to take off-roading. Going to a used-car salesman in a BMW probably isn't conductive to getting a good deal. I'll have to try to talk her into something sturdy.

I'm surprised by how good it feels that she asks me along for car-shopping. My sisters took their partners – now husbands – along when they bought their cars. They could handle it themselves just fine; apparently it's just one of those things women do. Take a guy along and then bitch about misogynist salesman not paying attention to them. Nevermind that, it just feels good that Steph wants me along as backup not for something dangerous, but to help avoid bad decision making. Crap, this still doesn't make sense when I explain it to myself. She values my input in more areas than her job and safety. She's letting me be part of her life.

That sounds strange because I know we've done things together in the past also in full view of the Burg. But still this pleases me. It's such an ordinary thing to do. Going with her when she goes car shopping. It feels like we're getting involved in each other's lives and not just physically. And that doesn't turn me off at all.

* * *

_Long overdue cleaning out of this folder. Feedback welcome, as always!_

_Cheers,  
Arwen _


	8. After Rangeday chapter 17 : Tank speaks

Rangeday EXTRA 8

Goes after chapter 17 - Tank's point of view

* * *

Today was a shitty day.

Don't get me wrong, it started out great. Ninja came over and we had breakfast and talked a bit. She discovered that I used to draw cartoons and got all excited when I dug out pen and paper and doodled a bit. I don't see any use for it and hadn't drawn anything but directions in years, but she thought it was the best thing ever. She went on about how comics are a valid art form and not just for kids.

Guess that's what you get when you have an artist girlfriend.

Then I put on India Arie and slow-danced her across my apartment. Took a little while for her to relax into it. I told her that since I can't see her in the evening, I intend to dance with her any time and way I can – and then I dipped her low. She gasped in surprise, and her body relaxed in my hands.

She's really small. I have to bend down to kiss her when we're standing up. Her neck strains when she looks up at me. Thankfully it doesn't bother her at all. She grinned that she's going to bring along a set of kitchen steps soon.

She listened to 'Brown Skin', really listened to the lyrics, and smiled against the skin of my arm. It made me look at the contrast of us. She's actually brown too, not pale as you'd expect. Compared to me it's a light brown, and tinged with honey. She probably tans very well, if she lets herself.

"Would your father have approved of me?" I asked suddenly, not knowing where that came from but needing to know. She rose up on tiptoe to kiss me high on the biceps.

"No," she said softly. Then, when I tensed, continued, "that would have been because you fail to be Japanese and own your own company. We didn't get along very well..." She wrapped her arms about me a little tighter.

"That doesn't bother you?" I asked, wanting to find out to what degree her family could influence her on this. Just trying to find out what I'm in for.

"If it did, I would have married Yukio Toyoda by now. My aunt keeps trying to convince me he's perfect."

Christ. Toyoda as in... the family behind Toyota?

"Why is he perfect?"

"He's Japanese, he's going to inherit a business emporium, he's a nice man," she sums up with a small shrug.

"So why are you not with him?"

She curled her fingers into my side by way of an admonishment.

"In case you hadn't noticed, I'm not here because you're nice."

Does she mean that she doesn't want a man who is 'nice' or not one who is _just_ nice? I'm not sure if she has the same connotations to that label as I do. As I half expected, the other two things don't really register on her radar. What was it that brought her here though? Looks? Rebellion? Curiosity?  
I gently swung her away from me, and she made a smooth spin before returning to my arms.

"You dance very well."

"Thank you. My parents insisted it was an vital skill for a young lady."  
She didn't sound like she shared that opinion. "Just don't take me to a club, I'm only good at this sort of dancing."

I dipped her again, smiling because this time she let her spine relax, trusting me to manoeuvre her.

"Where did you learn to dance?"

She sounded curious, but not because a man like me knows how to waltz – I think it was more that she was surprised that I was interested enough to learn.

"A good friend taught me."

It was uncle Nate who insisted I learn, after he and aunt Sarah took my mother and me in. They're not blood relatives, but they became our family from that point on. I remember him convincing my mother that I needed some civilisation after the hell of that damn crackhouse. I didn't care for it much at first, but it was time spent with the father figure I had craved for, and I came to enjoy it. I was grateful later - it came in handy at formal occasions in the army.

That still leaves me wondering what she finds with me that she missed in the Toyota heir. I want to know what it is so I can make sure to keep doing it or giving it. I leaned down and whispered over her ear.  
"Why are you here?"

She smiled, not fazed by my return to the earlier subject. Then she stood on tip-toe and kissed me.  
"Because you're dancing with me in your apartment to no music."

I tuned in to our surroundings and grinned because she was right, the CD had ended. And I understood her answer, though it wasn't quite what I hoped to hear. She likes me for who I am, doesn't care too much about what her family thinks... and she's not ready to talk about deeper feelings. That's okay.

"What will your family think of me?" she asked, and I resisted a grimace because I hadn't really thought of that yet. My mother will be happy with her because I'm happy. Nate and Sarah will probably love her, but my sister will likely disapprove. She says the good black men have to stick with the good black women. Solidarity and all that.

I think it's mostly that she has a kid with a stupid loser that she will have to drag child support out for the next 12 years. Every few months I have to look him up and remind him of his responsibilities. So Deanna is a bit bitter about her own choices, and says it's not fair that responsible black men look elsewhere while black women get left with the gang scum and the wannabe rappers and the losers.

I don't see how you can protest racism and then discriminate yourself, but that's just me. I don't 'look elsewhere', I have no 'type'. It's not skin colour or hair colour or figure I'm attracted to. It's a glance, a gesture, a scent, a touch... and I think I fell for Tsuy about the point that our hands touched the first time.

Maybe she decided I wasn't going to answer, because she started telling me about a trip to New York tomorrow to shop camera gear. At first I was happy because it's great that she's getting busy with her photography projects. She's full of ideas and enthusiasm and it's the cutest thing ever. Don't let her know I said that. She hates the word cute when it's applied to her. Hates it with a fierce passion.

I'm going to Boston tomorrow to assist Ranger. Won't be back until Friday night, maybe Saturday if things move slow there. I'm going to miss her.

I asked a bit more about this shop, because I'm not so thrilled about her plus a load of expensive gear heading into the city on her own. She has the tourist look, you know? She said she's been there before and had no trouble, plus she's taking Ty, so she'll not be alone. Well and good, but _where_ is the shop?

Loisaida, Alphabet City.

Fuck.

I think I startled her with my reaction. Hell, I know I did. Alphabet City is a shithole. No way am I letting her go there, alone or with a relative.  
I love her, but she has less street smarts than Stephanie. There's an air about her that just screams 'Rich tourist!' to anyone up to no good. And you can be as good at self defence as anyone, that's not going to help you a damn bit if some stupid shit puts a gun against your head or the driver-side window.

She retorted that she's taking Ty for company, and that she's gone before, and will be fine. I know that Ty is a younger family member, in his late teens at best. Is he a trained Ranger? Carrying and proficient with a handgun? Thought so. His presence is a real comfort. There'll be two people looking like rich wide-eyed Asian tourists. I'm sure he'll protect her real well.

I asked her to delay the trip until I have time to go with her. She insisted that she needs that stuff urgently it had to be tomorrow. I suggested taking someone along... like one of the men. We're hard-pressed at the moment but I don't think Ranger would object if I shuffled the roster so we could spare someone to go along. Bobby or Lester, Ram maybe. They're the core crew and I'd trust them with her safety.

She gave me a look that said 'not in a million years'. Then she changed the subject and didn't mention it again, which is Tsuyiko for 'This is happening. Learn to live with it.'

I went to work fuming, at her for being so damn stubborn and at myself for having such a gut reaction. I've been government trained to keep my emotions in check at all times, to be the rational one in times of crisis and to make informed, sound risk assessments and split-second decisions. And my girlfriend announces that she's making a trip to New York and I go caveman on her, all but telling her I'll handcuff her to my bedrail before I let her go alone.

Way to go.

Then I got to work and came face to face with this fuckhead loser Bill Bill the new guy who has set my teeth on edge a few times before. Bill the guy I recommended against, but who has a specific skillset that made him interesting for one of the projects Ranger has running. Bill the idiot who was warned last week for saying something about Stephanie that I wouldn't want to repeat... certainly not within earshot of Ranger. As it was, Ram set him straight.

He looked at me when I came in, grinned in a way that made me want to punch him, and said something—

Something concerning my 'piece of ass'. No need to repeat it.

Probably he thought he was just being guys-among-guys and cool and that I'd grin and slap his back.

Maybe it's because we both have sisters, but Ranger and I have never accepted that sort of shit at Rangeman. I remember we had a guy in our unit who talked trash about his girlfriend all the time, and we both hated the thought that somewhere some girl was shedding tears over this dickhead. Some girl who could have been our sister. You can't pick the guys in your unit, but you can pick your employees, and no way we're going to listen to that at work now. In the company it's the rule to have some respect, and if you can't have that, then at least keep your mouth shut. I like to think that that sensitivity training Steph threatened us with isn't THAT urgently required.

In any case I think Les and Ram could hear my back teeth grind. I silently counted to ten, very slowly, and then told the new guy to meet me in the gym in five minutes.

There I educated him on a few things, like how women are not objects, how he insulted my girlfriend, and how he insulted me by implying I saw her as an object, and how personal I took that. Then I gave him his notice and got Hal to drive him to the ER.

Too much? Probably. Another time and I might have reacted differently. Fired him without the pounding. On the other hand, our contact at the hospital said his jaw wasn't broken.

Thankfully Steph wasn't around for the start of this episode, though I have no doubt she'll hear of it soon enough. Somehow I don't think she'll find it very upsetting. Morelli's Buick encounter and her ex-husband's political career bear witness of that.

What Ninja will think I'm less confident about.

What she's thinking about my pre-emptive freakout I'm not even sure I want to know. We didn't resolve anything this morning and it's bothering me like nothing else. She kissed me goodbye, but she's better at dismissing things than I am. Apparently she concluded that we weren't going to resolve this, so dropped the matter and moved on. I can't do that. Not if it means that she's still going to go, and I'm still going to be in Boston unable to do anything about it.

Alphabet City is where I lived the first few years of my life, in a shithole of a house with a never ending string of crackhead losers. My mother saw the light when I was six, Deanna two and she was pregnant with my baby sister Neesha. Nate and Sarah offered her a hand and she took it, pulling herself up out of that hellhole and into a decent kind of life. I don't have many memories of living there, but I've been a few times since and I know it's no place for Ninja. She's a diplomat's kid, for God's sake. She grew up sailing at the Yacht Club and going to expensive boarding schools and learning the waltz for her debutante ball. Please don't let her go there.

She's not usually naïve, but about this I think she really underestimates the danger of that place. There's people there who don't care, about anything. Who'd as soon put a gun to her head as look at her. She views the world as mostly a good place and please, for God's sake, don't go there or that will change. Drastically.

Stephanie says that we have a skewed vision of reality. That we view the world as a worse place than it really is because we usually only see the bad side. I think she may have a point; I know it's her sunny outlook that first drew Ranger to her and that made us all like her. The world is a shitty place, but she's convinced that she's just in a bad spot and things are going to look up soon. No matter what kind of maniac Steph has after her, she still approaches anyone new with the expectation that he'll be a good guy. Ninja's kind of like that, though she's more reserved. And usually it works for her. But not this time. She can't go driving into that place with that wide-eyed innocence expecting things to work out fine. The predators there smell innocence and make it their business to stamp it out.

I'm going insane. It's 22:30 and I need to get some sleep. Tomorrow I'm leaving at 4:30 in the morning for Boston, but this stuff keeps churning. I'm torn between my instinct to protect her at all costs... and the sliver of doubt that maybe she is right and I _am_ over reacting. And if I push something on her against her will, like having her followed, then I run the realistic risk of her fury.  
Unlike Steph, who would tear a strip out of you and then consider the matter settled, I suspect Tsuy's reaction would be more final. Like the decision that someone she's been seeing for a month doesn't get to do that sort of thing.

I give in. I'm calling Ranger. He's had this on hand enough times, and he never hesitates to tell me his honest opinion.

"Yo." He was already asleep. Sorry mate.

"Yo, it's me. Need some advice."

"Go."

"Tsuy's going to New York tomorrow to shop camera stuff. I'm freaking out."

"Which part?"

"Small naive woman. Godawfully expensive camera equipment. Alphabet City."

"Okay." He takes a deep breath, thinking about it. "You tell her about this?"

"She's been before, so she doesn't see the problem. She very eloquently didn't say 'mind your own fucking business'."

"Hmm."

"Yeah."

"No chance of having her take someone along?"

"Not a chance. And if she caught someone following her, and she probably would"

"She wouldn't take it as well as Steph."

"No."

"You tell her about your past with that place?"

"No." I hadn't want her to associate me with that hellhole. I still don't.

"Might help her understand why it bothers you."

"Point," I concede. "Don't think that's going to stop her though." And I really don't want to tell her. I love the way she looks at me, with no preconceived ideas, no standards of expectation. I don't want to change that. I don't want her to see me when she's there and sees what it's like.

"Where exactly is she going?"

I tell him.

We are both silent for at least a full minute.

"You think I'm over reacting?" I ask then.

"I think your risk assessment may be skewed," he says then. It's almost the same, but not quite. "That's not such a bad part of the area, as far as I know. It's improved. And if she's been there before..."

"You telling me to let her go?"

"I'm telling you to think about what your fears are and how realistic they are."

They range from carjackings to gun-point robbery to rape and death.

"Man, if something happens to her—" I don't know what I'll do. I'm willing to take the risk that she'll never see me again if that ensures her safety.

Fuck, did you hear me think that? I am so screwed.

"You need to tell her this."

"Shit, Carlos Manoso giving me the advice to talk to a woman," I grin. "This must be a parallel universe."

He chuckles.  
"Stephanie lectured me about this at length. Said that there's a thin line between worrying for someone's safety and wanting to control their actions, and you had better make clear which side it is."

I bend my brain and can sort of see that. If she doesn't see the danger I do, or refuses to believe it is that bad... to her it may be like freaking out because she's going to the mall.

"So what would you do?"

"If it were Stephanie? Offer her the choice of taking someone along or staying home."

"I do that, I'm single."

He chuckles.  
"In your situation – see what kind of compromise you can get to. Get her to carry."

"She doesn't shoot."

He leaves a little silence that says exactly what he thinks of that.

"I know. I'll try to convince her to learn."

Probably won't be easy. She hates guns.

"We've got contacts around there; let her give Chavez her day plans and get her to take along a GPS system with panic button. She's not going to be in Alphabet City all day, right?"

"Yeah, but what can Chavez do when some asshole with a gun—"

"I know, but if that happens, what IS going to save her?"

I'm realistic enough to know that even I can't do much if someone surprises you with a gun. All my training is to make sure that doesn't happen in the first place. And if it happens that quickly, someone following her isn't going to be there quickly enough either.

"Take what you can get. Encourage her to be as safe as possible. Hell, if I insisted on Steph being safe at all times, I'd have locked her into a padded room long ago."

"I don't know how you did it, watching her walk into all that shit."

"Didn't want to be like the cop," he shrugs. "There were times that that was all that kept me."

I can imagine.

"I'm gonna call Chavez. Thanks man."

"No problem. See you tomorrow."

Dial tone.

"Moshi?" She sounds sleepy, and I smile because I can just see her grabbing for her phone, eyes still half closed.

"Ninja," I say softly, hearing her little intake of breath. "Sorry to call so late."

"Are you all right?" that sounds a lot more awake. Nice to know she cares, despite our argument.

"I'm okay," I say, and hear her breathe out in relief. "I'd like to talk some more about tomorrow though, and give you something. Can I come over?"

She just breathes for a long moment, and I wonder what she's thinking. Her family? If she wants me in her home? Maybe she's considering if she wants to re-open a discussion she considers closed.

"Sure," she says finally. "Come by the dojo. If you ring me when you're at the door I'll let you in."

"See you in ten."

I call her again when I'm standing in front of the double dojo doors. She picks up after one ring.  
"Heya. Push the left door? I'll be right down."

A buzz sounds and the door clicked open, admitting me to the little entrance where you take your shoes off. The inner doors are closed, so I toe off my boots and wait. Inside a floorboard creaks, and then I hear her voice in low Japanese. Nails click on wood - a dog padding away from the entrance. She's told me about her dogs, but I haven't met them yet. Good thing I'm not into unannounced sneak visits like Ranger is. Could have been a nasty surprise.

The small door in the inner doors opens, and her slim frame is outlined by a light source inside. I just look at her for a long moment. She's in wide drawstring trousers and a black fleece jacket over a tank top. Hair in a loose braid, Nothing on her feet. Very beautiful. Her eyes are guarded.

She greets me with a brief, tentative smile. No words. Just a sideways motion with her head. I follow her in.

The dojo is softly lit and seems almost cavernous at night. I halt inside the door to take it in, and because there are two dogs watching me attentively. She's mentioned that they're some obscure Japanese breed, Huskey like. Hunters. They're very beautiful, and they're not the tail-wagging every man's friend type.

She halts when I don't follow her further, and notices my attention for them.  
"Ah, I'll introduce you. We don't often get nightly visitors."

She makes a small gesture and both dogs approach to where we stand. The larger one, that she calls Miyo, takes his time to sniff at my hands and feet and then briefly pushes his wedge-shaped head under my hand in approval. The other dog is introduced as Iseki. She stays glued to Ninja's knee, clearly not feeling very confident about me.

"She is a rescue," Ninja says softly. "She'll warm up to you."

_Yes, but will you? You feel so distant right now. You always touch me in greeting – a kiss, a hug. Not now.  
_  
The introduction over, Miyo wanders back to his basket next to the doors. The smaller dog follows Tsuy as we go to a small seating area. We sit on the pillows and she offers me tea, which I refuse politely. Apparently needing to offer me _something_ in the spirit if good hosting, she puts a bowl of lychees on the low table.

Now that I'm here, the explanations and arguments I rehearsed in the car have disappeared.

She slowly peels a lychee, and I wonder if that is because she wants something to do with her hands, to distract her. She doesn't look at me, and she sits far enough away that our arms don't brush. I grimace inwardly. My behaviour this morning has done more than I intended. Not only did I show myself possessive, but I also had an _outburst_.

"Tsuyiko, I'm sorry for this morning," I finally choke out. The use of her real name makes her look up. I can't pronounce it real well, but this doesn't seem the moment for nicknames.  
"I overreacted and I apologise."

She gives a minute nod in acknowledgement, and I take that for acceptance.

"Maybe if I explain myself, you'll understand a bit. Why I reacted that way." Very eloquent man. Just spit it out. Can't sit here all night.

"I grew up there." She blinks in surprise. I plod on, determined to fix this sudden distance between us. "I lived there for the first six years of my life, and it was a very bad time." Talk about understatement. Nevermind. She is good at understatements. "And when I pictured you going there"

Another one of those nods, this one slower. The dog called Iseki sits down next to her, keeping a watchful eye on me. Ninja reaches out to stroke its triangular ears.

"I'm sorry. I want to add to your life, not restrict it."

She still doesn't say anything. Once upon a time I had a girlfriend who would want to have all these emotionally charged conversations with me and go nuts because I didn't say anything. Then soon we'd have an emotionally charged argument or rather, she would yell, and I would listen, and wait until she calmed down so I could hold her. She called it the most unsatisfying kind of argument she'd ever had. I didn't get what she meant.

I do now. I want to know what is going through her head. I need, _crave_ to hear what she thinks of what I'm telling her.  
_Say something!_

"Would you stop me from going?" she asks softly. Fuck, I hoped she wouldn't say _that._ Think before you answer this. Show her you're concerned, not controlling.

"Ninja I can't stand the thought that something would happen to you."

_Baby, I'm willing to risk you breaking up with me if that means you'll be safe_. Don't tell her that. Stay calm. Suggest a compromise.

"Something could happen to me here in Trenton," she retorts. "I could get squashed by a car, or thrown by a horse, or—"

"Alphabet City makes me worry because I have such memories of it," I interrupt her. She needs to stop talking about all the things that could happen to her. Or I might go insane.

"Would you consider taking some precautions to make me feel better?"  
That was a good tack, I think. Put the problem with me. She tilts her head a little, inviting me to continue.

"Could I convince you to take a GPS tracker with an alarm function? We have a local contact who could back you up if something happens."

She considers it, and I can sense that she doesn't really see how this will make her any safer. No need to tell her that Chavez will be close by. Not as close as I'd like him, but better than not at all.

"We'll be going to the camera shop in the morning," she says finally. "Then normal shopping in the afternoon."

I'm amused because she sounds far more enthusiastic about the first than about the last. It's clear what is the highlight of the trip for her.

"So this contact would only need to be on standby in the morning," she continues. I think she's well aware that I intend to have him available all day. On full alert while she's in Alphabet City, on standby the rest of the day.

"Okay, I'll tell him," I say quickly, immensely relieved that she's agreeing to this. "He'll call you tomorrow morning while you're under way."

I give her the thing, which is incidentally also a stun gun. It wasn't until about an hour ago, but I convinced one of our techs to get out of bed to make it so. She puts it away after I have explained how it works, and looks at me.

"Now will you kiss me?"

Huh? I know I look surprised. I've never heard her be so direct. Is she asking me if I want to, or telling me to do it? I'm confused. Her expression is giving me no indication.

The dog shifts from its absolute stillness, giving a muted howl. Is it feeling the tension? She looks away from me and reaches out, stroking its head.

_Do something. DO SOMETHING!  
_  
I shake myself, reaching out, trailing my hand along her hair. After a long moment she leans her head against my hand, and I move in to wrap my arms around her from the side. She sighs and puts her arms over mine; making it clear I'm not to let go.

"Did you think I didn't want to?" I ask after a long moment. My voice is very low, and she shivers. _How can she think that?_

"You were so angry," she whispers. I kiss her above the ear and rock her a little, slowly. "And then you wouldn't touch me."

_Foster, you're in idiot. Christ, you really fucked up this morning.  
_  
"I thought you didn't want me to," I say into her hair, hugging her to me, making it clear that I want to hold her and not let go at all. Talk about miscommunication.  
"I wasn't angry, I was frustrated because I couldn't explain to you Now that I found you, I'm afraid to loose you."

"And you don't think I worry about you?" Uh oh, this is a conversation I'd prefer to avoid. I don't want to give her reason to worry, but I can't deny that my job takes me into danger 7 days out of 10.

She says something in Japanese, then follows up with "When it's time to go, you go."

I nod. That's the military mindset. You try to avoid it, but when shit happens, it happens. I pull her sideways onto my lap, my arms about her. Just needing to hold her for a while. She relaxes against me, breathing softly.  
I'm a bit uneasy that she thought I was angry this morning. I was frustrated and kind of forceful in what I said, but I wasn't angry. I need to remember that she's into conflict avoidance. Possibly she's never had a real argument before, let alone a fight. My outburst really freaked her out. She's not used to people expressing strong emotions.

Conflict avoidance is not good in a relationship, I know that much. How do Japanese people manage it? She'll need to learn how to have an argument. Don't get me wrong; I don't want to have Steph vs. Morelli style screaming matches complete with hand gestures and shattered plates. I just want to be able to disagree about something and talk about it.

Never thought I'd say that. _I want to be able to have an argument with you.  
_  
Not now though. I kiss the shell of her ear, making her shiver, and then trail kisses along her jaw. She turns her face a little and our lips meet, slowly, intoxicating. She tastes of lychee. Mmm. The tip of her tongue teases me and I open to her, letting her lead, enjoying her boldness.

Fuck, she's sitting on my lap and she's kissing me like this. Is she really that oblivious? I cradle her head in my hands and gently pull back.

"I have to go."

_Shit, is that my voice?_ I sound breathless.

"When are you going to Boston?"

"Leaving in—" I glance at my watch and grimace, "Three and a half hours."

"You should sleep a while," she whispers.

Are you offering your bed, baby? I'd better not think about that, before I'm tempted to stay here and spent that time with you right here in the dojo lobby. That would never do.

I pull my legs under me and stand up, effortlessly taking her with me. The dog jumps up, backing away a bit, keeping a wary eye on me. I make a mental note to never do anything in its presence that could be constructed as threatening to Tsuy; it's anxious about me and protective toward her. A dangerous combination.

I don't really want to go. I want to hold her some more, make sure she's convinced that I want to touch her and kiss her. How can she doubt that? It's in my top-10 things to do. On the first 7 or 8 places.

I lean down to kiss her again, stroking my hands over her head and trailing my fingertips down her loose braid. A few wisps have come loose, and I tuck them behind her ears. She looks away, the eye contact perhaps too intense.

"I look a mess." She sounds a little embarrassed all of a sudden, as if she's only now realised that she isn't all groomed and perfect like usual.

"If this is a mess, I like messes," I whisper, smiling down at her. "You look amazing. You always do."

She fingers the hem of my T-shirt, and her eyes meet mine for a brief moment.

"Good luck in Boston. Be safe."

She doesn't know how to react to a compliment, so she changes the subject. I smile.

"Have fun in New York. You be safe, too."

Please, please be safe. Chavez is a good man, but he's no miracle worker. Please be safe so you'll be here when I get back. I'm not finished convincing you that I _always_ want to touch you and hold you and kiss you. I plan to spend most of Saturday and Sunday doing that.

"And drive carefully," I add as an afterthought. She drives like maniac in that Mini. I shudder to think how many speeding tickets she gets. Probably more than all of Rangeman together.

As I open the inner door the other dog lifts his head and tells me something in soulful howls. I smile because it really does sound like he's telling me something.  
"Absolutely," I answer dryly. "Take care of her, huh?"

He woo-woos some more and then seems satisfied, putting his head back down and going back to sleep. Ninja is laughing silently, and I give her a brief, hard kiss and step out of the door. Before I can be tempted to stay the night. It's a good thing we only have meetings in Boston tomorrow, or I'd be in major trouble after 3 hours of sleep and a 5-hour drive.

When I'm in bed a short while later, I can still feel my lips tingle.

* * *

_Feedback, as always, very welcome.  
_


	9. After Rangeday chapter 19

_Rangeday EXTRA 9_

Ranger point of view, takes place after Rangeday chapter 19

* * *

I had to be in Boston. Didn't particularly want to go, but business is business and this particular project wasn't going to run smoothly if I didn't get there myself for the duration. Initial plan was to run it 24/7 but I arranged weekends off. Didn't take much – vice cops like weekends off, too. Boston is close enough to drive back to Trenton for a weekend and I didn't want to leave Steph alone for three weeks straight. So soon after our most recent discussion… I didn't want to risk her starting to second-guess her own decisions.

"Was this a test?"

The words 'no, of course not' were on my lips when I caught myself. Had it been a test? Not consciously. I hadn't set out not to call her, hadn't set out to find if she could handle it when I went on a mission and couldn't call her. I had arranged the mission so I could see her on the weekends and intended to call her at least twice a week.

So what had stopped me from picking up the phone? I told myself that I'd call the next day, when I was less stressed. That I had nothing to tell her right then. That she'd think I had lost my mind if I called just to hear her voice. I've never called anyone just to chat, why should I start now?

I disconnected with a weak excuse and cursed myself. Not only did I upset her, I couldn't even cover myself with a smooth lie anymore. What was happening to me? Why didn't I just tell her that no, of course it wasn't a test, I had just been very busy? Now I had brought my weekend plans into danger. I'd been planning to join the guys at Shorty's, feed her margarita's and junk food, and abduct her to my house afterward.

She'd wake up in my bed... my bed at my real home. Then I'd take care of her until the hangover wore off, let her explore my house, and hopefully end up back in bed with her exploring other things. Seemed like the perfect moment to make our first time... our REAL first time.. a perfect occasion.

I've been trying to show her that I can be there for her... share myself with her. It doesn't have to be Paris. Just seeing her, talking to her, holding her... it makes life seem far more perfect than I ever thought it could be. If you had told me a year ago that I'd give up the possibility of a hot night with Stephanie in favour of sleeping on her couch while she watched crappy films next to me... I would have laughed. But I did do that, and haven't regretted it for a second.

And now I've messed up. She's probably furious right now, and I won't be home until well past midnight. Another time I would go by her apartment and crawl into bed with her, but she'll probably lock the deadbolt now.

The deadbolt is a source of anger and confusion. I should be pleased that she's safer, but instead I'm unhappy because it also keeps me out. How fucked up is that? Then there were the times that I turned up to call her out of bed and the bolt wasn't locked, and that ticks me off. Now she has it, she should use it. Not sometimes, all the time.

Except when I'm planning to come over unannounced. Glad I cleared that up.

As Thomas would say…. Carlos, man, you're in way deep.

When I finally arrive back at Haywood somewhere past three-thirty AM I don't bother dropping by the control room. If there was anything I should know about, I'd already have been told. I'll go straight to bed, and try to invent a way to make it up to Stephanie tomorrow.

My appartment feels off. Someone has been here. The sidelight is on and there are empty Corona bottles on the lounge table. Have the guys been using this place as alternate break-room? They won't do that again when I've finished discussing this with them.

My bedroom is open. Maybe Stephanie used my bathroom for a shower this afternoon? I'd never discourage her from that. Her scent lingers there, and I can imagine her in the shower with me.

No.

I pause in the open doorway, taking her in by the dimmed bedside light. She's on her side, knees drawn up, nestled in the covers. A wavy curl tickles her sweet lips, moving with each breath. She's fast asleep. How did she get here? And why did she come? I didn't expect her to want to see me at all right now. Let alone to find her in my bed.

Doesn't matter. I take the fastest shower known to mankind, quietly put on my sleeping shorts, and slide under the covers with her. Hmm, maybe she didn't mean to sleep here. At least, she's dressed; sweatpants and a T-shirt. I've never know her to wear this to bed.

"Babe," I breathe, pulling her close. She wakes a little and mutters something. Not clear what. Then she turns around to drape herself against my side, pulls her knee up over my thigh, and says it again.

"I hate you…" she sighs. I wince, but it's hard to feel worried about her mumbled comment while she's sleepily rubbing her cheek against my shoulder.

"I'm sorry, Babe," I whisper. I've had a long drive to think about why I didn't call. I don't know what possessed me to promise I would call in the first place – I've never called someone just to chat. Wouldn't know what to say, and why would you call someone and then not say anything? I don't need to hear her voice to know she thinks of me. I know she's okay, because the office would let me know immediately if she wasn't. There really is no reason for me to call her when I'm away for a couple of days.

Except, of course, that she thinks differently. She calls people just to say hello, to catch up. She can hang on the phone for an hour with a friend she just saw two hours ago. To her talking on the phone isn't about exchanging information, but about bonding. It's a skill I don't possess. I've called her in the past and ended up catching up for a few minutes, but I always have a reason to call.

Add to that my promise that I would call. I can be there for her a hundred times, bail her out of a thousand jams, but the moment I promise something that I don't deliver will stick with her. I told myself she's used to not hearing anything while someone she's involved with is away for a time, but forgot the fatal flaw in that reasoning – the one who got her used to that is Morelli. And if there is one thing I don't want to remind her off, it's her time with the cop.

Why is she here? Judging by the crumpled bedsheets, she must have come here not long after our phone conversation. I thought I was in for a serious setback in her trust, not for finding her in my bed.

Unless she came here to chew me out, and just fell asleep before I got here. That would explain the 'I hate you'.

I let my hand glide along her back, easing her back to sleep. As her breathing deepens, I decide that this will be the last time I have disappointed her trust in me.

* * *

_Thanks for the new reviews! I had these 'extra' stories still floundering when I was done with Rangeday itself, and just didn't have the energy for them back then. I've had a long creative dry spell so I'm trying to get back into it by cleaning up and finishing up these stories._

_There's a Tank & Tsuy sidestory that I may do something with, too._

_Cheers,_

_Arwen_


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